Interrogation - Part Two Individual Assignment (Mari Caldwell)

Mission Briefing (given on a piece of paper to the candidate):Your mission is to bring in the head of a terrorist organisation in a stealth situation. You know that the man is setting up camp in a local house that is under high detail guard. The mission consists of intelligence gathering in the local area for use in a larger mission.

You are not to take the head of the group out, as the Ministry wish to interrogate him on their home soil.

The mission includes yourself and your partner (OOC: Please assume an NPC for this thread) and you will rely on one another to stay alive behind enemy lines.

The Ministy will expect updates at least every three days. Lack of contact for this amount of time will mean that a mayday moment is called and a full Auror squad will be sent in to find you. Therefore, this should not be tested unless necessary.

You have already reported back intelligence in regards to the guard each day, the day to day comings and goings in to the compound, and all relevant information. The means of information being sent varies, but must be verified as safe as often as possible.

Setting for Thread Now (shown in a video to the candidate):It has been a long evening. Your partner is taking first watch and you have just taken to your bed for the evening. You know you have to be up in a couple of hours, so you are out like a light.

It's about an hour in to your sleep that the camp is being destroyed. Your partner lay dead and two men have stolen your wand (OOC: Assume wandless magic is not present in this thread, for simplicity) and have transported you to the compound you have been watching for the last few weeks. You have not seen their faces as you have been transported, and once you're in the compound, everything is dark.

OOC points:1) Once the video has been shown, the student will be taken from the chair and put in to a dark room under the following conditions:

- Assume that you have been pressed in to the stress position (on your knees - with them at right angles, and your hands behind your head. Everything is kept straight, so any slouching will be corrected immediately.

- It has been what feels like hours since this has happened, your body is growing tired, and your body is feeling the strain of the treatment. (The lecturers would have started lessons at normal time and insisted on working in to the night - there would have been no pre-warning of this happening, so there will have been no preparation time.)

- The room will feel cold, and damp.

- The candidate will not be able to see.

2) It should be noted that the people taking this part of the training session are not Louis Clement. The character is simply being used as it is his class. The people have their faces concealed, and their voice resembles no likeness to Louis'. Louis will only be in the thread if specifically stated.

3) Should you have anything that you don't wish your character to be subjected to, please either PM Louis, or put an OOC note at the end of your post. It should be noted that lasting physical damage will not be inflicted on your character.

4) Explore your character as much as you like, and if you wish for something specific to be in your test, please let me know.

5) Should your character wish to leave the exercise, please have them raise one hand above their head, and tell the instructors that they do not wish to continue.

6) To pass this part of the course, it is not about seeing how far a character can be pushed before they break, it is about realistic reactions. If your character has to give in, but tried they're best, they can still pass.

((OOC: Marilyn is not to be subjected to any kind of nudity nor any sexual or implicated sexual situations, not even harrasment or crude remarks of such nature.))

When Marilyn was taken to a separate room and briefed she knew what was up. The witch had been expecting a practical lesson, and Louis' hint at her birthday party had tipped her off that something she wouldn't enjoy was coming. What did she not enjoy? Well a number of things, but logical selection had brought up a captive situation as a possible meaning and the witch had been 99.99% sure. Now she was 100% sure. So when the figures burst into the room hand over her mouth she used the hand to flip the man over onto his back, careful to not use much of her extra power, just enough to put up quite the fight, so she could actually do the lesson. Otherwise she'd just been in the room with a dozen unconscious ministry officials.

As it turned out she knocked out two cold but was 'overpowered' by five at once and the next thing she knew she was on her knees, hands above her head, in a cold, damp and dark room. Testing the waters she lowered her hands only to have them roughly corrected. It was ages she was there, Mari had no light to judge the passing of time. But this wasn't the first time she couldn't see the light. At least here there were no dementors. No screaming children. No screams falling silent.

The witch remained the way she was with a blank expression and a dead empty look in her eyes, and suddenly she was in full Guantanamo mode. In a way it had triggered that part of her and whilst in this scenario that wasn't a bad thing, in the long run it might not have done her very well. But in this room nothing existed outside. Her knees hurt as did her shoulders and back muscles, her core tight from strain, the pain becoming numbing and burning all at once. But she kept her mouth clamped shut. No sound would escape her lips, yet. Not when she'd been through so much worse.

Marilyn distracted herself with preparation. This was interrogation. Nothing she hadn't faced before. Except now she could use her time in the cell. Not like in Guantanamo, where she'd been laughing on the train one moment and tortured on an island the next. They wanted to let her stew in the stress position. But that was their mistake. If there was one thing the young heiress had learned to do in prison it was use her time. So she closed her eyes. And step by step, she closed her mind, leaving it devoid of emotion, emptying it to the thought equivalent of white noise. Deep, steady breaths into her stomach.

The witch in question was a fighter, it had been quite clear early on that this would be the case. It had taken five men to get her to come quietly, so he was impressed. This one would be difficult, but a challenge was always nice. They'd left the witch in the dark room to go over everything that had happened, watching as she seemed to try to play the system, only for magic to press her back in to the stress position a moment later.

It had been almost three hours now, which meant it was growing later in to the evening. The stress position would be causing problems, but hopefully that would mean it made it easier to get the information they required. Though, the man did not expect it. "Bring her to the interrogation room." Was the simple command given, two men moving in to the room and hauling the witch to her feet, guiding her to the adjoining room and putting her at the table. It was light in this room, a very garish light that was too much in itself.

It was still silent though, for a good few moments, allowing a short time for her to adjust, but not enough to get comfortable.

"Tell me your mission, who sent you, when the information is due." The harsh tones of the larger man came as he burst in to the room. Immediately the man was in her personal space, slamming a piece of paper on the table accompanied with a pen. "Name, rank, number." He continued, not relenting from the position as he waited for the witch to respond.

Brought into a room with blinding light Marilyn forced her eyes to stay open, her mantra repeating monotonously in her head, 'The capitol of Vermont is Montpelier.' A meaningless sentence connected to nothing rotating around her head, void of anything else. A trick to emptying the mind whilst outsmarting the natural instict to think of Something. Her eyes she kept open knowing they'd adjust quicker, though not fully. "Tell me your mission, who sent you, when the information is due."

Marilyn remained empty faced and unflinching. Then the man slammed down pencil and paper, commanding up in her personal space to state her name rank and number, but she refused, stony expression not even blinking quicker than she usually would. But as he was in just the right position she stabbed her thumbnail into his jugular vein, piercing it just enough for him to start bleeding profusely. Whilst he'd been barking at her she'd made a fist with her thumb up, knowing her nails, which were perfectly manicured, were sharp enough, in combination with her strength, to do damage. She could have killed him. And in a real situation, she would have, just as unflinchingly, but there was no need for that here.

Almost instantly others burst through the door, to shove her up against the wall and she didn't resist, letting them magically 'shackle' her hands above her head. The man was brought away but another would soon take his place.

Impressive. Nothing short of impressive. Notes were flying down about the witch as she took out another interrogator. Of course, there weren't a shortage of people, the wound would heal quick enough, but the witch needed to know she was not the one in control. It would, however, he difficult to find something to frighten her in to talking. It was no surprise that she had to be shackled, and with a nod of his head, the man in charge sent in a second emissary.

This time everything was calm.

A smaller man entered, no where near as intimidating as the first, and took a seat on the table out of the witch's reach. He held a clipboard, and didn't come with a threatening aura surrounding him. "You know, we can give you whatever you want if you cooperate?" He told her, his voice only just loud enough for her to hear because you didn't have to raise your voice to command a room.

"If you tell me the information we need to know, we can let you have what you want. You want to leave, don't you?" He continued, his voice coaxing but never loud. "What is your name?"

Marilyn didn't respond, didn't even act like she'd noticed him enter the room. Back in Guantanamo Mari had, at some point, started ignoring the guards, as much as possible, quickly learning that there was no use in fighting to escape without a plan. One needed to wait, for the opportune moment. So it had been out of necessity that she'd ignored them, not cheek. They could keep her here all night. It was nothing to her. A night? What was a night? She'd lost a year. She'd faced death every moment. There had been moments she would have welcomed it.

There was nothing they could do to get anything from her here. Nothing that would be worse than what she'd endured. And if they did kill her? Then at least they didn't get the information. Her mission, protecting the masses, that was what counted. Her life for the safety of all. As many as possible. That was a deal she'd been prepared to make back then, risking her life to escape, to tell the world where the children were, to save as many as she could. And that was a deal she'd make now. So in this situation, were this real, they would continue to interrogate her, realise it was useless at some undefined point and probably kill her. "What is your name?"

"Fuckoff." She replied not looking at him, "It's Russian." Mari drawled, her tone was patronising and sarcastic, as if he were beneath her, and certainly not going to do her any favours in treatment. But it could provoke him. To come closer. And then she could get him. And if not him then a lacky. Escapism was still something Marilyn was especially gifted in and if possible she would do so in a heartbeat. But this was the practical interrogation lesson so that wasn't really an option. Mari knew what she was allowed to say in these situations, but she refused. They wouldn't get what they wanted. No matter what it was.

A smart mouth, this one. The man before her didn't look impressed, not that she could see anything more than his eyes and mouth. This man was not easily provoked, hence he simply remained where he was, waiting for an answer. "You only have to tell me your name, and I can get you something you would like. How does that sound?"

She must have been hungry, possibly cold as they didn't heat these buildings, thirsty even. Tired almost certainly.

This man, however, was a man capable of magic without his wand. Usually the longer you spent in the field gave you more need to use wandless magic. The aura around the man was always so calm because he had this gift, and he was known for his ability of extracting information by legillimency. "Shall we try again, what's your name?" He asked. His focus remained solely on the witch before him, trying to get inside her head to the information he needed, or indeed to pick out information he could use against her.

'The capitol of Vermont is Montpelier.' Marilyn's loop continued. This man was not to be provoked it seemed, yet at least. Marilyn's core muscles were tight, not just from the various uncomfortable positions, but also from hunger and thirst, though she didn't feel it as intensly as she would have without the piercing. Keeping her emotions blank, flat and non-existent Marilyn felt a barrage against her minds door but she kept him out, 'The capitol of Vermont is Montpelier.' 'The capitol of Vermont is Montpelier.' 'The capitol of Vermont is Montpelier.'

It stopped, though probably not for long. She'd never even been to Vermont. Bugger her if she even knew where in the States it was. It was perfect. No connotations came to mind with the place; it was simply a cold fact. Speaking of cold, Marilyn hair, damp from the air, was icy against her neck, nothing she hadn't faced worse of, but uncomfortable. Though instead of being unbearable it was more irritating.

And Marilyn's mercy went down severely when irritated. He tried again.

'The capitol of Vermont is Montpelier.'

Marilyn rolled her eyes and turned her hands to grasp onto the shackles, pulling up ever so slightly so the weight of her body was in her hands instead of her wrists. It was a stealthy move he wouldn't notice. The witch was quite tall at 5'6", most of her height was in her legs. Though being barefoot now wasn't quite the disadvantage that it would have been thought to be. What she had planned would be quite difficult in heels.

Legillimency was not working on this witch, which simply made the man grow slightly more annoyed in the situation. He had always been so good with the recruits, because almost all of them had not readied their minds for such tasks. They were too young, too green, and not ready for this, except this witch she… well, she was quite something.

Trying once again, the same blank canvas that he had received the first time came to mind.

With a growl of frustration, the man stood from his seat on the table to stand before the witch. With her hands above her head, he was not worried about her. "You had your chance, now don't expect any more light treatment." He told her through gritted teeth. He wasn't usually a man to be messed with.

Fucking finally, Marilyn thought, and in one swift motion she pulled up on the chains, using the wall as a spring-board for her lower back to kick off of, hooked the chair she'd been sat in before with her feet, lifted it's legs around his head and twisted hard. There was a resounding crack! and he fell to the floor, unconscious. She'd shoved the upper vertabrae and discs so that she'd only incapacitated him, not killed him.

Instantly he was taken out and she was dropped onto the floor, shoved into the now chairless floor and handcuffed with her hands behind her back. Her feet were cuffed together, too and there was a guard behind her, holding her by her shoulders so she wouldn't move.

And she let him. Waiting again for the opportune moment to strike, contemplating the different scenarios in her head quietly and quickly.

The team in the back room turned to Louis fourth person was floored, awaiting instructions. The Frenchman simply nodded, telling them to continue with the exercise. He was quite sure the witch was competent enough to keep going, and if nothing else, it was teaching his team of Aurors not to underestimate anyone. Even the recruits.

Another two men entered the room, switching everything to put the witch against the floor and binding her whole body. These men was apprehensive, having watched four men fall to her wrath, it was hardly surprising that they weren't overly comfortable with being the next 'toys' for her to chew and spit out.

Using the fact the witch was bound, the man continued. "Now, if you've quite finished with your games, we'll start again. What's your name?" The man asked, drawing out a knife. In his head, it was more protection, he was aware he wasn't allowed to hurt the witch permanently, but he wasn't going to take his chances.

When she saw the knife her armband grew the slightest bit warmer, he wasn't as tight to the rules of not hurting apparently. The witch knew nothing permanent could happen but she'd had enough now, she was hungry, she was not particularily pleased with the situation and the knife was just too much, too personal."Now, if you've quite finished with your games, we'll start again. What's your name?"

"Don't." the word was quiet, but firm, and nothing followed, just one word. The man mistook it for a plea apparently because he relaxed slightly and leaned forward with the knife, pressing the flat side of the blade against her unscarred cheek, "Don't what? Don't hurt you? I won't have to if you tell me your name..." he pulled the knife back away, standing straight, but before he could sit back down Marilyn had thrown her weight backwards to land on her hands, throwing the guard who'd held her shoulders off balance to fall with her, beside her, his head hitting the floor with a crack. Done.

Then she jumped her legs back through her cuffed hands so they were now chained in front of her and used the momentum to swing her hands to grab his wrist that held the knife and break it, knife now in her hands as she stood, pinning him to the wall, blade at his throat.

"Don't. Fuck. With. Me." Marilyn hissed, at the guard before jamming the knife just under his shoulder on the front half of his body before grabbing his lapels and hitting his head against what she didn't know was the window-wall she was being observed through. Now she'd taken out six ministry officials, something that probably didn't sit well with the officials in question but Marilyn only had so much patience.

Louis had not been happy when he'd seen a knife brandished in the room. He'd specifically told his squad not to do permanent damage, and knives always caused permanent damage when used in these situations. As the team behind him turned for next instructions, Louis shook his head.

In the room adjacent, the ties were lifted from the witch, and the door opened on the opposite side from which she'd entered. Louis moved silently from the room to the room they used to get the candidates to calm down. "Caldwell, come through." Louis spoke clearly, yet softly. He knew it would be a difficult time for anyone. There was an arm chair in this room, that Louis left for the witch, and a stool for him if he chose to sat down.

Which, for now, he simply couldn't because he was seething.

As the witch moved in to the room, Louis motioned to the chair. "Please take a seat."

The door opened and her bonds were dropped and Marilyn eyes the door warily for a moment, still tensed to strike. But the voice was familiar as was the face, but in Marilyn's feral survival mode she'd needed a moment to recognize it, but when she did she nodded, coming into the room and at his request she sat in the armchair. But stiffly at first, still not relaxing and her eyes marking all exits, even though she knew that even she probably couldn't take on Louis, especially not like this. The witch's hand went to her bracelet and the ice cold temperature reassured her enough to force her muscles to relax, even if her mind was still in fight or flight mode.

Most of her knew what she'd done hadn't been wrong, and that she was safe with Louis, but a small part of her pointed out that she'd nearly killed six trained ministry officials. And that might not come without consequence. Honestly Marilyn just wanted to go, eat, drink, whatever, just go. But she couldn't.

As the witch sat down, Louis closed the door behind her, shutting everything that had happened behind her. Marilyn took a seat, and Louis gave her a moment with her own thoughts.

"Everything is finished now, Marilyn." Louis told the witch, casting a silencing charm on the room. He knew the Ministry liked to listen in on this bit, but he wasn't going to let the witch be subjected to their thoughts. "You're safe now. It was a simulation, and you are no longer required to take part in any interrogation techniques. You've passed, also." He told her gently. "Can I get you anything at all, or do you have any questions?"

She couldn't leave here for ten minutes, because Louis needed to be sure Marilyn had realised the difference between the simulation and now.

"L'eau, s'il vous plaît." Marilyn murmured, after pulling her knees up to her chest. It was over, it was over, The capitol of Vermont is- it's over. her thoughts were somewhat broken inbetween, fragments of then and now overlapping as she tried to separate them. The water helped a lot, when she recieved it, after thanking him softly, drinking carefully so she didn't hurt herself. When the bottle was empty she set it on the table and then looked back at Clement, "Am I in trouble for taking down Ministry officials?" Mari asked him, more herself slowly, her voice soft but without regret.

She'd do it again. Anything to do her job. But there was another question on her mind, "Sir...why the knife? It didn't fit, he didn't fit. Knife play is a permanent torture," she gestured to her scars, "And the instructions said no permanent injury would be done," her mind, still on high, supplied her with more irregularities, "Not to mention it knives are survival only, not combat and it wasn't cursed, because he wouldn't be allowed to have one and you would've stopped the program so it was just a muggle knife...why'd he pull it?"

Louis summoned a bottle of water and handed it to the witch. No quick movements, no harsh tones, just trying to soothe the witch back in to reality. As the witch drank, Louis took the stool and sat down in front of her. He was simply calm, because he knew each of them needed that, even if he was waiting to go back and murder the man in the last room.

"Am I in trouble for taking down Ministry officials?"

"Of course you're not in trouble. You haven't killed anyone, they're all going to be fine." Louis told her, he meant it too. If anyone wished to take him on, they were welcome to try, but Marilyn was not going to be in any trouble for showing her capabilities. "Though, Caldwell, I do need to know one thing. If that were a real life situation, you'd have killed them, am I right?" Louis asked. He was quite sure he knew the answer already, but he had to be certain.

"Sir...why the knife? It didn't fit, he didn't fit. Knife play is a permanent torture,"

Louis jaw set with this information, the annoyance of the situation quite clear on his features. He let her finish her observations, which were quite good considering the very brief amount of time she'd had to deal with. "I had not known he was carrying a knife, Caldwell. If I had known he would not have been permitted in the room. It is permanent, and the instructions were, as you said, clear. I can only apologise for the actions of the man in question. But you can be assured that I will be taking this further with him when we are finished here. I'm sorry you had to be subjected to that." He finalised, hoping the explanation would be enough for the witch.

"Though, Caldwell, I do need to know one thing. If that were a real life situation, you'd have killed them, am I right?"

Marilyn nodded instantly, "I would have killed all of them. I just didn't have the opportunity for the rest, yet." And it was the truth. If she hadn't had the self control she'd had, she would've killed the last ministry agent. Instead she just caused him as much pain as was possible and then made sure that ape didn't kill himself. She'd left the blade in to stem bleeding and knocked him out so he wouldn't dislodge it in panic.

He'd have a scar. Good. The news that Louis had not known about the knife helped comfort her tremendously, as did being told he would deal with the man himself later. When he asked if she had any more questions she let her legs fall back onto the floor, no longer hugging her knees and bit her lip.

"I would have killed all of them. I just didn't have the opportunity for the rest, yet."

Despite himself, Louis smiled at this information. He could already see where Marilyn was going to thrive, and the moment she got her Auror badge, he was going to make sure she got precisely where she needed to be in the field. But until then, he would simply make sure her training was kept up in the right areas.

"Sir...could I...have a hug, please?"

The request was one that Louis had not been expecting at all, and how could he have. Hugging students wasn't something he did, period. But the vulnerability of the witch before him in that moment made sure it was not a choice. Standing up, Louis motioned for her to do the same and opened his arms for her. He didn't speak a word, just waited for the witch, and once he was in her arms, he held her close.

"You're safe, trust me, Caldwell." He told the witch in the embrace, only letting go when he felt the witch pull away. There was an awkwardness after, where Louis racked his brain for something to say. "You may go now, Caldwell, get a check up with the Healers and head home. You don't have to come in to work tomorrow if you don't want to." He explained with a small nod.

Once in his arms Marilyn relaxed and held herself close to him, fully appriciating how comforting it was to be held, especially by someone she trusted as much as Louis Clement, so she stayed, her face against his chest, breathing slowly and controlled so the sudden relaxation didn't send her into a panic. "You're safe, trust me, Caldwell."

"I do trust you." Mari told him quietly, taking one last deep breath before letting go and letting him dismiss her, which he did with the promise that she was not required to go to work tomorrow but she shook her head, "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow, Sir." And with that Marilyn Caldwell left to let the Healers poke and prod her. And most importantly, to check on Jake.